Niles: Frasier, Daphne and I are throwing the party.
Frasier: Daphne? Well. Fine, suit yourself. It's your painting. I suppose I could just whip up my signature dish.
Niles: Daphne's handling the food.
Frasier: Lovely. So you'll be serving those sad brown chunks that make their way from plate to napkin, bypassing mouth completely.
Niles: It's called "Piccadilly Beef", and I talked her out of it, thank God.